My mom didn't make it 24 hours in a nursing home. She was booze-pickled demented, had daily home care (plenty of resources), but fell and busted her shoulder. Caregiver found her, got her to the hospital. I begged the hospital not to transfer her to the nursing home until I could get over there in five days or so. Well, they moved her, and after an evening and morning of switchboard he// I finally got a human on the other end, asking for my mother. After being put on hold, the human told me at that moment she was in the ambulance on the way to the ER. Choked on potato salad. I called the ER, the doctor "called" her while I was on the line.
Oh, was I hot. But then, my stepsiblings pounced and made sure I didn't have the energy or resources to pursue the inexcusable "care" Mom had in her last four days.
In contrast, my Dad got Covided, and while he was feeling his 85 years, mentally he was still him -- a month before he went, we enjoyed our usual "sport drive" in the Audi A8, running that puppy around the corners with tires crying and up against the chip on good straightaways. But the Covid killed what was left of his lungs, and when I told him he'd never get off pressurized oxygen or go home again, he basically said, *%#)&, then let's go, (%$&$#). 15 hours later, after a final father/son salute, he punched out.
